“He may be gone”
He may be gone
But as the fire burns strong
One after another will carry its flames along
The thought remains
As generation browses the pages
Trying to end the catastrophe
If not to resolve the crisis
Bringing hopes to fulfill
As they’ll turn the history’s wheel
He may be gone
Yet his name continues to resound
Praised, remembered, even still slandered
By friends, folks, and the order still feared
About his persona to that of his works
Of his poems, essays, and expressions
All based from the hardships of the masses
And basis to strike the order and its attack dogs
For the order remains the same
With all its obvious intentions
Despite different names
And rephrased delusions
The fields remained stained with blood
No matter the order showcases its edifices
Trying to stop those who awake and assert
Just because of an endless unresolved situations
Expect insults and slander
From the order and hired detractors
Trying “bests” to subvert the truth
In favour of the order and its “beauteous” filth
The news to social media trying to churn lies
Yet failing to appease the folk as they realise
Yes, they claim he and others as failure
Yet the order failed to end the struggle
As the flames continue to burn seeing in every station
And the order turning catastrophic situations into conditions for a revolution
Again, just like his colleagues, he may be gone
But like his works that passed on to generations
His legacy remains forever.